


The Melody Lingers On

by StrictlyFromCorn (orphan_account)



Series: Fred Astaire x Ginger Rogers [14]
Category: 20th Century CE RPF, Astaire/Rogers RPF, Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers Movies
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 13:51:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1430839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/StrictlyFromCorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the filming of The Barkleys of Broadway, Ginger suggests that they dance to "They Can't Take That Away From Me". Fred starts to get emotional about their mutual friend, George Gershwin, and sits down to write a letter to him, never mind that he died twelve years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Melody Lingers On

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've said over and over again that George really should've won the award in 1937, and so, here it is, a slight alternate universe where he does win it. Posthumously, but he wins it all the same. I hope you enjoy! <3

It had happened a full twelve years ago, but Fred still had trouble grasping the fact that his friend of 20 years, George Gershwin, was dead. Back in 1937, when they were all doing _Shall We Dance_ together, no one had even suspected it was a brain tumor. Sure, he complained of headaches sometimes, but everyone just dismissed it as overwork. It all happened so suddenly, yet, it was such a big blow to all that knew George.

Fred didn’t want to believe it at first, and neither did Ginger. It seemed so easy for the two of them to just deny that fact - they were under the impression that George would just drop by for a visit, as he had so often done. The slightly infuriating way in which he constantly flirted with every pretty girl - Ginger included - was something Fred knew he was gonna miss, nevertheless. George had a different sort of humor; sometimes bordering on lewd, but always warm and funny.

Most of all, he left his mark on the grand piano that sat in the living room of Fred’s house. If George wasn’t at the bar, he was definitely playing a tune at the piano. He often commented that Fred’s piano was better than the two he had in his apartment - as a matter of fact, that was where he had come up with the tune for “They All Laughed”. For months after his friend’s death, it was too much for Fred to even look at the piano.

Evidently, Ginger never stopped thinking about him, either. Earlier that day, she had suggested that they dance to “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” - a song that George had written for their earlier film. However, they didn’t dance to it then, and that upset the composer to no end. She figured that since she was doing a reunion film with Fred, they could make amends for that.

As those emotional memories of his best friend crowded his mind, he turned the doorknob to his dressing room in complete silence. One of the last times he had seen George was on his own birthday - Fred had been working, as usual. George convinced everyone to throw a surprise party for him; as expected, there were lots of girls. But everyone involved had a fun time, and at the end of it, the composer egged Fred and Ginger into making out in front of all the party guests.

Boy, if there was one thing George loved besides music and girls, it was seeing Fred and Ginger together. He and Ira had written “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” specifically to mirror the couple’s real-life relationship, and it was his coincidental decision to ask Fred to help with _Girl Crazy_ that had brought them together in the first place. George made it no secret that he wanted them to get married - but that hadn’t happened, unfortunately.

At least, not yet.

As Fred took a seat on the divan, a rather strange but tempting idea crossed his mind. He wanted to write a letter to George - to pretend as if he were still alive. There’d be a lot to write, naturally, considering that it had been twelve years, but as he thought about it more and more, the appeal only seemed to grow. He wasn’t going to show it to anyone, of course, and he had some spare time since they were practicing the scenes with Ginger and the Frenchman that afternoon.

Fred didn’t allow himself more time to overthink the decision, and got up at once as he searched for a pen and paper. Once those materials were located, he sat down at the dressing table and started to write in a neat fashion.

 

* * *

_Dear George,_

_How have you been? It has been so long--_

* * *

 

 

Fred stopped short, dissatisfied with how formal and generic the letter sounded. Their messages of correspondence were usually short and filled with excitement - specifically, he thought of the telegrams they wired back and forth when working on _Lady, Be Good!_ Adele used to make fun of them; it was all in good fun for the three friends. Sure, 12 years had passed, but Fred didn’t care. He wanted to recapture the spirit of their excited conversations through letters - and so, he skipped the formalities, like he had always done. 

 

* * *

 

_You know, Ginge talks about you a lot. When are you coming back to play your latest compositions for us? I still have that piano - the one you simply adored._

* * *

 

 

The logical answer was “never”, but Fred pushed those thoughts away and continued to write. 

 

* * *

 

_You do realize that everyone is still waiting, right? I mean, after you won that Academy Award - you deserved it, by the way - the world was so surprised. And you’re not gonna disappoint them, are you?_

* * *

 

He recalled the presentation of the awards like it was just yesterday. Of course, George wasn’t there to accept the award in person - but Ira was. And so were Fred and Ginger. When the presenter announced - “And the Oscar goes to… George and Ira Gershwin!”, the room erupted into applause. In fact, those present gave a standing ovation as Ira walked up to the stage to accept the award. On his way there, the lyricist beckoned to Fred and Ginger to join him on-stage.

“I’m not the only one who deserves this award.” Ira began his speech as soon as the applause had died down some and the audience had taken their seats again. Ginger was barely holding back tears, and Fred had his arm around her in an effort to comfort her. “As you all know, my younger brother, George…” Ira paused for a beat, trying to compose himself. “He should be here with me, up here. He deserves it - he composed the whole deal, after all. I… I’m dedicating this award to him, and…” Again, he found himself at a loss for words and stopped awkwardly, attempting to keep his rising emotions under a lid.

“And with that, I want to offer you my sincere thanks.” Fred stepped forward and came to his friend’s rescue. “Not just mine, but Ira’s, and Ginger’s, and everyone who had anything to do with George. He was _such_ a talented composer, and it’s truly a loss that he’s not here tonight with us. I’m sure you can all just imagine him up here in my place, smiling and holding the award, and making terrific comments. If he were still around, he’d compose many, _many_ more award-worthy songs - but all the same, I’m so glad the Academy has chosen to honor his work. ” The speech was all improvised as he went along, but it again made the audience erupt into roaring applause.

“We love ya, George. We all love ya, and we hope you’re watchin’ tonight. Thank you.” Ira added as a closing as he held up the statuette.

“...Ginger?” Fred murmured his dancing partner’s name tenderly as they descended from the stage. It was plain to see that she was nearly in tears - she hadn’t gotten over the incident yet - and he forced himself to plaster a smile on his face so that Ginger had an example to follow. “Aw, don’t cry. You know what George always said - you look so much prettier when you smile.” Fred’s comments didn’t seem to be very effective, though, and he soon found himself fighting back a tear or two.

“He should be here. The most important night of his career and he’s not here. Why-” Ginger stopped short, unable to contain it any further. It was no use, after all, and she rested her head against Fred's shoulder. "Remember, Freddie? Remember when George first came to the premiere party of _Swing Time_? I hadn't seen him in five years, but oh, God – he was charming as always. He was talking about composing, and he said..." She wiped away the tears that were steadily streaming down her cheeks and ruining her makeup. "–He said he hoped he'd win an Academy Award because Jerome Kern had won one for _Swing Time_ , and so had Irv, the year before, and..." Ginger drew a sharp breath. "And you teased and said that he had already won a Pulitzer Prize – there wasn't much else for him to conquer." She remembered the whole incident, every moment with George, clear as day.

"Yeah, I remember." Fred had given up trying to console his dancing partner and rubbed his eyes vigorously, trying to will the tears away. It didn't work, though, and a teardrop ran down his cheek. He bit his lip and nodded, not bothering to hide how hoarse his voice had become. "I remember, all right." 

* * *

 

 

The whole night came flashing back to Fred's memory in the brief pause when he lifted the pen from the paper. The dancer stayed completely silent as he recalled the other incidents after the award. The way Ira had placed the Oscar statuette on top of George's piano – and his comment. "You deserved it, George. You deserved it."

 

* * *

 

_Ira misses you terribly, too. He's writing the lyrics for our film but it simply isn't the same without you. Who else do we have to laugh at for chasing after pretty girls? Who else is there for Hal Borne to playfully compete with whilst playing the piano? It's awfully dull without you, George._

* * *

 

 

Fred found himself dissatisfied again, this time with the sentimental turn the letter had taken. He didn't want it to be all sappy, just because he hadn't seen George in so long. It was true, though – things were different without his best friend goofing off on-set. 

Maybe he would do well to update George on what had happened in that period of time.

 

* * *

_I'll give you an idea of what's been going on lately – maybe it'll prompt you to come back quickly. Ginge won an Academy Award too, ya know? She's been waiting for your congratulations all this time. Hermes won one, too, at the awards which you missed. Say, all of you are winning Oscars, and I've yet to get one! I'll have to catch up soon! And I assure you - I will. You know what, though? Ginge had a great idea this morning._

* * *

 

He figured it would only be fair to mention the idea of dancing to the one song of George’s that the Academy had chosen to honor. Fred recalled how upset his friend was when he found out they weren’t going to dance to it in the film - obviously, he thought it would be great for an intimate romantic dance for Fred and Ginger. But there were other problems - first and foremost, there was the issue of getting it by Fred’s wife - who was starting to voice some disapproval, and then again, they had run out of time to adequately choreograph and practice a routine that was up to their standards of absolute perfection. 

Even then, Ira and the scriptwriters had snuck several innuendoes past the Hays Code. There was the whole scene where Fred and Ginger were laying on the grass after their rollerskate dance, and the last line of the film - “They all said we’d never get together, they laughed at us, and how! But who’s got the last laugh now?” George found himself more than amused with those subtle jokes; especially considering that most of America’s adult population found it amusing, too.

 

* * *

 

_You're gonna love it. She suggested we dance to "They Can't Take That Away From Me" in our latest movie. We all know how sore you were when we didn’t do it last time - so, we’re trying to fix that. Y’know what they say - better late than never, right? You should drop by sometime, see how we’re doing on it._

* * *

 

Fred stopped short once again. When he had sat down to write the letter, he had so many ideas of what to put in there that he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to fit them all in. Now that he had actually put some of those words on paper, he had forgotten the rest of what he was going to say. It was just as well, though - their original letters to each other had always been short and sweet.

 

* * *

 

_I guess there isn’t much else to say besides the fact that everything’s waiting for you, just as you left it. Don’t keep Ginge waiting too long - say, what kind of a gentleman are ya? Maybe you’d do well to bring her back some flowers._

_She’s a sucker for violets._

_Your hoofer pal,_

_Fred._

* * *

 

The whole letter reeked of denial, but Fred couldn’t care less. If that was what other people wanted to call it, so be it. For him, it was simply a method of coming to some degree of acceptance with the loss of his dear friend. 

As he folded the letter and stuck it into his coat pocket, the door opened. There was only one person who dared to enter Fred’s dressing room without knocking, and it was none other than Ginger herself. She looked like she was pretty upset as well, given the expression on her face, but as soon as she saw her dancing partner, a smile lit up her face.

“Hiya, Fred. I thought you’d be at the rehearsal room or something - I looked all over the place for ya!” She sat down next to Fred, noticing the way he quickly put the pen back in his trousers pocket. “What… what’s the matter?” Ginger knew it was a _fine_ time to be asking that question while she herself was fighting back a surge of emotions, but she had to know what was troubling him.

“...Oh.” Fred knew it was useless to keep anything from his dancing partner. To each other, they were open books, and they had kept that honesty since the first time they had seen each other, way back in New York. “Well, I’ve been thinking about your suggestion to, uh, to dance to… George’s song.” He began slowly as he reached for the letter. It was only fair that Ginger read it, too.

“Yes…?” She wanted to say “you, too?” It was plain to see that she was upset about George as well, but then again, a small part of Ginger was happy that they’d be fixing what they hadn’t done in _Shall We Dance_. Better late than never, right?

“And, uh, I got to writing. You see, Feathers, I should never be allowed to write. It’s dangerous when I do. And… I came up with this letter. To George.” With that, Fred quickly handed the piece to her, willing his dancing partner not to say anything about the complete _denial_ that was evident in the note. A silence followed as Ginger read the letter carefully and slowly.

“It’s wonderful, Fred.” That was her only response. “You… you got everything right. Including the part about the violets. I love violets.” She looked up from it and smiled at Fred sincerely as a tear quickly ran down her cheek. “Well… the sooner you get it to George, the better. You can tell him that I’ll be waiting for those flowers.” Ginger handed the letter back to him - in response, he quickly pulled her in for a hug. She buried her head into his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

“George would’ve liked to see us like this.” Fred remarked breathlessly, wishing with all his heart that his friend were around to see them together. “He left too soon - much too soon.”

“You know what, Fred?” Ginger raised her head and a small smile found its way onto her face. “At the very least - despite _everything_ , we still have each other. We’re working together, again.” He said nothing in reply, and instead leaned over to give his dancing partner a passionate kiss on the lips.

All said and done, she was right. At least, they still had each other, and nothing could tear them apart. Nothing _whatsoever_.

George would’ve been proud.


End file.
